To Breathe or Not To Breathe
by Enthusiastic Fish
Summary: Tim-centered oneshot written for hypercell. A boring assignment turns into a raging inferno...and Tim's caught in the middle of it.


**A/N: **Oneshot written for hypercell. Little bit of Tim in danger. Little bit of heroic Tim. Not much plot. :)

**Disclaimer:** I do not now, nor have I ever owned NCIS, real or imaginary...and I am not making any cents off my fanfiction, red or otherwise.

* * *

**To Breathe or Not To Breathe  
**by Enthusiastic Fish

"It's a haircut, Tony, not surgery. Why would I be worried?" Tim asked, furrowing his brow in confusion.

"_You never know. Look at all the disasters that have befallen you in the past. That buzz cut a few years ago, then your long hippie hair last year."_

"It wasn't that long!"

"_For you, Probie? It might as well have been to your waist. You there yet?"_

"Yes, Tony. I'm here. Yes, so are the computers. No, nothing exciting is going on," Tim said, trying to forestall any further questions.

"_Have fun, with your counterparts, McNerd."_

"Thanks, Tony. You know, once the truck gets here, you'll get to help cart all these servers out of the building."

"_Ha. So you think."_

"Bye, Tony," Tim said, rolling his eyes. He disconnected and looked around again. Babysitting computers. How exciting.

He began to walk toward the door when suddenly the floor beneath him began to shake. He stopped. An earthquake? Here?

Before he could think anything else or even move, there was loud roar and Tim felt himself thrown up and then fall downward...before he hit the ground and blacked out.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim groaned and opened his eyes...and then promptly shut them again. There was nothing he particularly wanted to see in this room. But then the noise reminded him of what was going on...and that he could be facing a very unpleasant (albeit brief) future. He pulled himself up, feeling every muscle in his body groaning in protest. It felt as though he had fallen through the floor. As he looked around it seemed as though he had. Worse. There was fire all around him. Had there been an explosion? He couldn't quite remember. He reached for his phone to call for help...but when he pulled it up, it was broken. Tim looked up. There was a hole above him. Maybe it was true.

It was funny how loud it was. How loud could heat be? It made sense in a way. A fire in a fireplace made a comforting crackling noise when it burned. A larger fire would make more crackling, popping noises. ...but Tim had never realized just how loud a fire burning out of control was. It wasn't a crackling sound (although he did think he heard those occasionally...like when the filing cabinet went up in flames). It was a roar. Like some huge monster chasing him down.

The funny thing was, he wasn't even supposed to be here. It had been a last minute change in plans. Gibbs had decided that, as the most computer savvy of the group, Tim would be the best one to go back and look over the servers on the fifth floor of the lieutenant's office. They were making arrangements to get them all shifted over to NCIS, but until that could happen, someone had to be there, preferably working.

A cloud of black smoke billowed up and blew into his face. Tim began to cough, choking on the acrid stench. Immediately, he pulled his shirt up over his nose and mouth to try and filter out the smell. This wasn't just smoke. It was some sort of chemical fire...which was now spreading. Fast. There didn't appear to be any landmarks anymore...just the roaring fire and the thick black smoke. Tim staggered forward, a direction that appeared to lead him away from the worst of the flames, but he couldn't be sure. What had happened? Had he really fallen through the floor? ...was anyone else in the building?

"H-Hello? Anyone in here?" he called out, coughing. If there was an answer, he couldn't hear it.

"Hello?"

Then, he thought he heard something. It wasn't a voice. It was something moving. ...but it was coming from off to the side...and the fire was really hot back that way. Quickly, he shucked his jacket, pulled off his shirt and tied it around his face. Then, he replaced his jacket, even though it was really hot in the room, and began to stagger toward the sound. His head was getting fuzzy.

"Is someone back there?" he shouted over the roar.

"_Help..."_ The voice was faint but he heard it.

"I'm coming!" Moving more quickly, Tim moved through the clouds of foul-smelling smoke. Even with his shirt over his face, he was getting way too much of whatever was burning. His lungs felt as though they were clogged with soot...and he felt dizzy.

Suddenly, the fire alarms went off. Tim could only hear them faintly but he rolled his eyes.

"A little late, aren't you?" he muttered.

The burning items in this place were strange, like a twisted chemistry lab. A little curl of worry began churning in his gut. He got around a wall which had not yet been set aflame and there, beneath a pile of debris, was a man, struggling vainly to free himself.

"Help," he said.

Questions piled up in Tim's mind as he approached, but in the end he pushed them aside. Whatever this man might be, he was still a fellow human being and didn't deserve to be immolated. Decision made, Tim began shifting debris, only to flinch when he heard a minor explosion just on the other side of the wall. He began to work faster.

"Get me out of here," the man begged. "Please."

"I'm working on it. Shut up," Tim said. The air was slightly better here, but he wasn't going to bank on that continuing to be the case.

The wall beside them began to shift. Tim was distracted from his task for a moment. It was a strange transformation. There must be plastic or something because it seemed to melt...and then there were flames dripping down as the wall began to vanish behind the encroaching fire. Tim realized the danger and went back to his task, shifting the debris even more quickly, until all that was left was a door. The man began to get up, but he winced.

"Do you know where the exit is?" Tim shouted over the flames.

"That way! There's a fire escape! But...but Matt! He's still in here somewhere!"

They seemed to be on the outside wall in their current position. The fire would probably get even worse and the sprinklers weren't coming on in here, nor were the alarms flashing.

"Why aren't the sprinklers working?"

"We...We turned them off!"

Tim was sure he knew what was going on now. "What is this place?"

The man just looked terrified and obviously wanted to run. Tim relented. There wasn't much point at the moment.

"Where's your friend?"

"He was...back there!"

Further into the flames. If he was alive it would be a miracle.

"Can you walk?"

The man just coughed.

"Do you have _phone_?" Tim yelled.

He pulled one out of his pocket. Tim snatched it and checked. It worked. Wonderful.

"Okay. Come with me. Take me to where your friend is." Tim began to dial and move forward. He looked back...the man was gone. "Hey!" Tim began to cough. His eyes were stinging with the smoke. He crouched down on the floor and began to inch his way forward through the smoke, calling out for Matt...whoever he was.

"_Special Agent DiNozzo."_

For just a moment, Tim wondered where Tony's voice was coming from.

"_Hello?"_

Tim coughed again. "Tony!"

"_McGee? That you?"_

"Yeah! Listen...there was a...a fire or something. I'm...I think I fell through the floor and...and I'm...trying to find this guy."

"_What? McGee, I can barely hear you!"_

"FIRE!" Tim shouted. "At the building!"

"Someone there?" came a voice from outside the phone.

"_McGee! Are you still inside?"_

The roar of the fire grew louder and Tim was momentarily distracted by another dripping wall of fire. A minor explosion startled him out of his rapt contemplation. It sounded like a retort or something blowing up.

"_McGee!"_

"Yeah...yeah...Tony...I'm inside." Tim peered through the smoke and thought he could see someone. "I'm coming!"

"Stay away from me!"

"_McGee, get out of there!"_

"There's someone in the room. I'm trying to..." Tim crawled forward and found himself in a room that, amazingly enough, was still fire-free. He stood up. There was a man in one corner of the room, his body pressed up against the wall, eyes wild and bloodshot.

"_McGee! Hey, McGee!"_

Tim dropped his hand to the side and only vaguely heard Tony's voice.

"Come on, we have to get out of here," Tim said, relieved that he could keep his voice at a tolerable level. This place is burning down."

The man did not seem relieved at Tim's appearance. He looked terrified.

"Stay away!" the man screamed.

"I'm trying to help you!" Tim shouted back, stepping closer.

He kept trying to get the man to listen to him, but he edged away every time Tim came closer. Tony was shouting through the phone, but Tim found that his brain was only allowing one thought at a time. Right now, that was trying to get Matt...if that's who this was, out of the building safely. He was high. Tim could see that now. That fit with everything else he was seeing in this place. He made one more attempt...and got too close. The man swung at his face and Tim felt stars explode behind his eyes as he reeled backward. Then, the man plunged out of the room...straight into the flames.

"NO!" Tim shouted, trying to get up and stop the man. He couldn't get his limbs to work and was forced to crawl on the floor to the doorway where the fire was creeping ever closer.

He heard a scream and tried to follow in the man's steps...but the fired roared ever hotter and he was forced to fall back against the outside wall. He looked back and forth, disoriented and lost. He brought his hand up...and was unpleasantly surprised to find that the phone was gone.

The smoke was so thick that he couldn't even see the fire. Again, he dropped to the floor and tried crawling back the way he had come.

_Keep moving. Keep moving, McGee. Don't give up now._

His eyes stung and watered. His throat was burning. His head was spinning but he kept moving forward, knowing that if he stopped he'd never start again.

It seemed like hours that he was crawling, sweating, wondering if his hair was on fire...breathing in the smoke that he was sure was toxic. Then, he hit a wall. A wall that wasn't burning, thankfully. Turning his head from side to side, Tim tried to figure out which way he should go. He had no idea where he was and he could feel his brain shutting down. Unable to think logically, he went left...because he was left-handed. He didn't go very far before he hit something else...and smelled air that wasn't so smoky. Lifting his head, he saw...a wall. Well, air couldn't come through a wall. ...so he lifted his head higher.

A windowsill! Tim lifted his hands, grabbed the edge and pulled himself upward, wondering when standing had become so difficult. It was a window! He tried to open it before he realized that it must already be open...since the air was different. Gasping and choking, he slithered out over the windowsill like a slug and then landed hard on a metal landing.

_I'm outside!_

Tim pulled the shirt down from his face and half-fell, half-climbed down the stairs. He did fall the last few steps, unable to stay upright.

"Sir! Sir!"

He heard the voices and tried to reach for his badge.

"N...NCIS..." he coughed. "Federal..." He couldn't remember what came next and he fell to the ground, darkness closing in fast.

"McGee!"

That was the last thing he heard.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Slowly, ever so slowly, he could feel the world spinning around his head. It made him dizzy. ...and feeling sick to his stomach. There was something on his face. He tried to move it.

"Turn him over! Quick!"

He felt hands on his shoulders, rolling him onto his side and moving the thing from over his mouth as he began to throw up. It hurt his throat and left him feeling even worse.

"Roll him back. Get the mask back over his face."

"It's okay, McGee. You're going to be all right."

Everything faded again...

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"...pulmonary damage..."

"What about...drugs...system..."

...make it."

"...intubation...bronchoscopy will..."

He opened his eyes but couldn't see very well. Everything was blurry...and again there was something on his face. Sound faded in and out of his head, leaving very little in its wake.

"He's awake..."

"Agent McGee, just relax. We're going..."

Shapes loomed over him. Someone was holding his hand. Someone else touched his forehead. Cold sensation on his chest.

"...wake up and..."

Convinced that he didn't need to be a part of whatever was going on, he stopped fighting the blackness.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Something unpleasant in his throat, but breathing wasn't so painful.

Hand holding his still...again?

He tried to open his eyes but they wouldn't follow his instructions.

"He'll be intubated for a couple more days, they said. They don't want him to become dependent on it."

He wondered if that was him being talked about.

"He's going to be okay."

"You have said that a number of times, Tony. Repetition will not necessarily make it so."

"Shut up. He might hear you, you know!"

A long-suffering sigh.

Blackness rushed in...where fools feared to tread.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"When will he wake up?"

Nothing in his throat this time. That was an improvement. He felt more aware of his surroundings. That could be good or bad.

"When he is ready, my dear. We cannot rush such things."

Still, someone was holding his hand.

"How is he?"

"_He's_ going to be fine...until he goes to trial. He just left McGee behind. He saved the little drug-running weasel and he ran out on him."

Breathing in still hurt a little. There was something on his face again.

He tried to blink. He succeeded...briefly.

"McGee?"

Darkness.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

His eyes opened. He thought about opening them and they opened. True, they fluttered rather a lot but they lifted. He was able to get a glimpse of his surroundings. The lights were dim, thankfully, and the room was full of people. No hand in his this time...but a limp hand was on his arm.

"Hey? Hello?" Tim rasped. His own voice took him by surprise. It sounded like he'd been chain smoking for fifty years.

The hand on his arm moved and Tim was able to turn his head to the side.

"McGee," Gibbs said, relief evident in his voice. "Welcome back."

"Boss...what...what happened? I remember...a fire?" Tim asked, thinking back and coming up with very confused mental images...like dripping walls of fire.

"McGee!"

Then, there were a few voices, all saying his name with relief and happiness. Tim managed to look around at them all and was happy to note that he recognized them.

"Hey," he said in that strange voice which seemed to belong to him.

"Yeah, there was a fire," Gibbs said, after everyone had finished quietly celebrating his return to consciousness. "Turns out there was a meth lab on the floor below the office. It blew up."

"Meth...lab?"

"Yeah. You got caught in some pretty heavy-duty stuff, Probie," Tony said, his expression serious.

"I think...I might remember. It's...weird in my...head."

"It would be, Tim. You were breathing in drug smoke," Abby said, her face pale but her eyes twinkling now that he was awake. "It almost killed you."

"Wow. That why...my voice is so weird?"

"Yes, Timothy. You sustained some burns and irritation to your throat as well as pulmonary damage. They only took you off the ventilator two days ago."

"How long?" he asked.

"Ten days. The toxins you inhaled were extremely dangerous."

"There was...another man. I...I was trying to... did he?"

"They found a body in what was left of the building. Known drug dealer...and user. The guy you saved was the one who owned the lab. He broke his leg and had some smoke inhalation but he'll be fine to stand trial," Tony said and then swore. "I wanted to kill him myself."

"He...asked about his friend."

"Matthias Wilson. He's the one who died."

"Oh." Tim expended a great deal of effort and looked around again. "I'm going to...be okay?"

"Yes. The doctors are keeping a close watch on you, but you should make a full recovery. ...eventually."

"Eventually?"

"Once your lungs heal," Tony said. "That takes a while, Probie. I know that much."

Tim smiled and gave a...well, it was _almost_ a laugh. More like a cough with a smile.

"Just rest, McGee," Gibbs said. "You've earned it. Welcome back."

"Thanks, Boss." Tim felt himself shutting down yet again. "There's...one good thing about this."

"What's that?"

"I don't have to babysit the computers anymore," Tim said with a grin.

"You also don't have to worry about your hair," Tony said.

"My hair?"

"Singed short, Probie."

Tim tried to lift a hand to feel it, but he couldn't muster the energy.

"No haircut this month, then," he mumbled. ...and fell asleep feeling safe.

FINIS!


End file.
